


The Beauty of Strength

by Links6



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Pain, Classical Ballet Terminology, Dancing, Despair, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurts So Good, Izaya is a troll, OC is a sinnamon roll, Plot Twists, Shizuo is a cinnamon roll, So much angst, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Weird Plot Shit, character injury, for ballet fans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 19:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13014792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Links6/pseuds/Links6
Summary: Shizuo attends a Ballet performance and discovers something he never knew existed ...





	The Beauty of Strength

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Durarara/DRRR! or any of its related characters or themes.  
> AN1: Obviously we have Swan Lake here as the ballet used... meh. I was thinking Giselle originally, but it didn't go too well xDD  
> AN2: The thought of Shizuo watching Ballet was just inspiration at its best. I really love the idea of him having an 'artsy side'.  
> AN3: edited from my orginal positing in ffnet

She's been balancing on one leg …on the tips of her toes… for the past minute. Her leg was lifted into a high arabesque, lifted high behind her in a perfectly stretched line complementing her arms.

Her one hand resting lightly on the shoulder of her partner is probably the only thing stopping her from toppling over, Shizuo thinks morbidly. He can just imagine the swan dive that'll transpire as soon as 'Siegfried' stands up or decides to sit down.

Her eyes, which had been focused to some invisible point in front of her suddenly flickered to his, as if feeling his presence. 

He blinked as her unwavering gaze held his.

When her partner finally did move away, Shizuo's widen in shock as he watches her retain that position without waiver. When she finally does melt into the next position, Shizuo finally lets out the breath he hadn't even noticed he's been holding.

With a quick flick, she turns on her toes and rushes off the corner, ready to start her solo.

The blond couldn't believe his eyes as he watches her, seemingly melting into the floor one moment then leaping into the air with veracity. Her height of her jumps, the deep and supple bend of her knees when she chassé's, her gracefully held back the entire time of the dance. Even how her arms seem to melt effortlessly from one position to the other, framing each step. 

He can't help but feel like her eyes keep finding him within the crowd, as if she was dancing for him. He shook his head to get rid of the thought. After all, it was probably just a coincidence. 

The dance was breathtakingly beautiful and complicated though. He couldn't believe how effortless she made everything look. As if she could do this the whole day. He couldn't help but have the thought cross his mind, that, she probably could do this the whole day. She made it seem as easy as breathing. As if anyone could do it.

But, he knows for a fact how difficult static strength is, how much training and pain goes into building to that level of physical ability. 

If anybody knows, it's him.

Shizuo keeps his eyes trained on the brunette as she finishes off with a perfectly balanced triple pirouette before falling into her final pose. Her arms slowly unfold into a full port de bras as the last bars of the music fade out.

He can't even bring himself to applaud the Second Act. He just sits, head still tilted and a quizzical expression on his face, as he watches the curtain come down.

He replays the final moments of the scene over and over in his head. How dynamic each of her movements were, how controlled they were.

And, then, he felt himself grow strangely jealous.

Jealous of how she could control her strength, and apply it in degrees when she needed. Jealous of how she could use raw power to create such an art. Jealous of how her strength was so beautiful, where his was…

"Oh…. Hi! You're Shizuo Heiwajima, aren't you?" a bright female's voice came from next to him.

He frowns instinctively, already on the defence, before looking over. He stares for a few moments, blinking, before recognizing the woman in front of him, "You…"

"You work with Tom, right?" the woman asks, still leaning forwards with interest, "I haven't seem him here in a while, how is he?"

"He's fine…" Shizuo answers automatically, still dumbstruck.

"... uh... Are you okay?" she asks, tilting her head and smiling. Her lips were still painted a soft pink, her the rest of her dark make-up had been removed. He could see the shimmer of glitter on her hands and neck from the remnants of stage-make-up. Her hair was still pinned back and tied into a bun at the back of her head. She was actually even prettier up-close.

"I'm fine," he grumbles and finally looks away, "Shouldn't you be getting ready for the next act?".

"We have a half-hour interval," she says and adjusts the nape of the large trench-coat she's wearing, "I thought I might stop by when I saw you decided to stay in the auditorium… I thought you might be lonely."

He blushes furiously and scoffs, but that doesn't seem to deter her much, "You should really try the hors d'ouvres they serve here… I'm not really a fan of salty snacks, but the whole crew loves them… I guess it's worth a try," she continues on.

"Why're you here?" he repeats with a grumble. It's not that he's not interested, or that he doesn't like her… but he's learned the hard way to be cautious.

"I told you why. Besides, I wanted to meet you," she says with a shrug.

"Why?"

This time, it's her turn to look away with a blush, she bites her lip for a moment before turning back, "Well… it's kind of hard to explain… "

And, whatever reasons Shizuo had thought for himself were quickly eradicated from his mind when she continued, "You see… when you're on stage, it's hard just to dance for a crowd… so I usually look for one person, just whoever catches my eye, and then… I dance to them,"

A beet-red Shizuo shifts in his seat, covering his mouth with his hand to stop her from seeing his grin.

"Yeah… it's weird… I know," she sighs and leans back into the auditorium seat. The trenchcoat pulls up and the young man notices how her white tutu had been replaced with a black. When she spots the reveal, she adjusts the hem of the coat, determined not to let anyone see her costume before the performance.

"It's not weird…" Shizuo comments after thinking, he nods and continues, "I think… having a connection with one person would be much easier than trying to fulfil the expectations of everyone."

"Yeah… that's exactly it!" she exclaims excitedly, clapping her hands together.

Now, Shizuo isn't a softy. He's not a teddybear with a caramel heart and a damned ribbon tied around his damned neck. But when she smiled like that, for him? He was pretty sure his heart melted right then and there.

A sharp bell rings twice in the distance, causing the young woman's head to shoot up.

"Ah, well…. I have to go," she says and stands up, "It was nice talking to you, Mr. Heiwajima…"

"Shizuo," he quickly says, stands up and nods with a sheepish smile -which she returns.

"Right…. Shizuo…" she tests the name again.

As soon as she turns to leave, he instinctively opens his mouth to stop her. When she does stop and turn, and she does ask him if there was something wrong, he wished –for the first time in his life- that he was Izaya. Izaya was the one with the silver-tongue. Izaya was the one who always had something to say, something to comment on. But, Shizuo wasn't a talk-er. He was a do-er.

"Ummm…" he hums for a second, trying to find an actual reason for keeping her there, even if just for a moment. He pauses with his mouth agape before noticing something, "Your coat…" he points to the coat, which had slightly opened, revealing the embroidery of the black tutu underneath.   
He takes a step closer and suddenly became consciously aware of how she just stands there patiently as he adjusts the coat for her, "There…"

She doesn't seem to be affected at all by the intimacy of the moment as she looks up and smiles sweetly at him. "Thank you," she chirps and finally trots off toward the exit.

When he takes his seat again, he was left with a slightly depressed feeling. Since, well, he was sure that he was the only one who actually felt a connection in their meeting. He sighed deeply and rested his arm over his eyes. 'Why did I let Tom convince me to come…' he wonders, not for the first time that night.

Although... when the auditorium starts to fill again, and he hears snatches of past crew members, regulars and reviewers' conversations, like: "What happened to her? … I just saw her… It's the first time in months she's actually smiling again…" …. "She hasn't danced like that in years! It's like she's a completely different person!" … "Did you see it? It was like half-way through the act, she suddenly just came alive…"  
…  
Yeah. He wasn't sure, but…. Maybe he wasn't the only one who felt that connection after all.


End file.
